Free Dune: The Machine Crusade by Brian Herbert, Kevin J. Anderson

insisted.
    Needle Rock was very close to the settlement. Though impressed, Selim did not show it. “And you survived in the desert by yourself? How far away is your village?”
    “Eight days’ journey. I brought food and water, and I caught lizards.”
    “You mean you stole food and water from your village.”
    “I earned it.”
    “I doubt your Naib would see it the same way, so it is not likely your people would take you back.”
    Marha’s eyes flashed. “Not likely. I fled from Naib Dhartha’s village, as you yourself did years ago.”
    Selim stiffened and studied her. “He still has a stranglehold on the tribe?”
    “He teaches that you are evil, a thief, a vandal.”
    Selim’s chuckle was dry and humorless. “Perhaps he should look in a mirror. Through his own treachery he established himself as my lifelong enemy.”
    Marha looked tired and thirsty, but made no complaint, no request for hospitality. She fumbled at her throat and pulled out a wire loop that held a jingling collection of metal chits. “Spice tokens from offworlders. Naib Dhartha sent me out to work the sands, to scrape the spice and collect it to be delivered to his merchant friends in Arrakis City. I have been of marriageable age for three years, but no Zensunni woman— or man— can take a mate until they have gathered fifty spice tokens. That is how Naib Dhartha measures our service to the tribe.”
    Selim scowled, delicately touched the tokens with his fingertip, then in disgust tucked them back into her collar. “He is a man deluded by greed and the false hope of an easy life.”
    He turned away and stared out into the desert. Squinting into the morning light, he watched four figures emerge from the lower caves. They walked out onto the open sands, garbed in camouflage robes and cloaks, their faces wrapped to prevent moisture loss.
    The smallest of them was Biondi, preparing for his test.
    When Marha looked questioningly at Selim and then at the other man, Jafar explained. “Selim Wormrider receives messages from Shai-Hulud. We have been commanded by God to stop the rape of the desert, to halt the harvesting of spice, the momentum of commerce that threatens to set history on a disastrous course. It is an enormous task for our small group. By working to harvest melange, you yourself have aided our enemies.”
    Defiant, the young woman shook her head. “By abandoning them, I have helped your cause.”
    Selim turned back, looking from her crescent-moon scar to her intent eyes. He saw a determination there, but could not be sure of her true motives. “Why have you come here to a hard life, instead of running to Arrakis City and signing on to a merchant ship?”
    She seemed surprised by the question. “Why do you think?”
    “Because you do not trust offworlders any more than you trust your own leader.”
    She raised her chin. “I want to ride the worms. Only you can teach me.”
    “And why should I do that?”
    The young woman’s eagerness overrode her uncertainty. “I thought that if I could find you, track the location of your outlaw hideout, then you would accept me.”
    Selim arched his eyebrows. “That is only the first part.”
    “The easy part,” Jafar said.
    “Each step in its time, Marha. You have done well so far. Not many approach as close as Needle Rock before we apprehend them. Some, we send away with enough supplies to survive the trip back home. Others are so hopelessly lost that they wander to their deaths without ever knowing we have been observing them.”
    “You just watch them die?”
    Jafar shrugged. “It is the desert. If they cannot survive, they are useless.”
    “I am not useless. I am good with a knife… killed one opponent and injured another in duels.” She touched her eyebrow. “One man gave me this scar at the spaceport. He tried to rape me. In turn, I gave him a scar from one side of his belly to the other.”
    Selim withdrew his milky-white crystalline dagger, holding it up so that the young